


The Rule of Two

by sjalfvili



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Reylo - Freeform, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, but not without taking an adventure via the FORCE, i'm prying my dyad duo back from jj's dumb idiotic hands, this is me running way too far with the world between worlds theory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjalfvili/pseuds/sjalfvili
Summary: A Force dyad cannot be so easily broken, not even in the event of death. Or in this case, a sort-of death.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> star wars isn't going to give me what I want it to so I'm just going to write it myself, later I'll have a little help from Ash

There was one moment of peace. One moment. It was quiet, comfortable. There was almost enough time to emit a sigh of relief before everything shifted.

Instead, there was a feeling of falling. It wasn’t a harsh sort of fall that might jerk one awake or reach out to catch themselves. It was cautious in a way, conscious. A wind directing where a leaf might settle or a feather. It seemed to go on for ages. Soon the wind could be heard, gently howling and lifting. Eventually it stopped. So did the movement.

_I’m telling you hun, his eyes make him look older than he is. You gotta agree with me._

_Maybe that just means he inherited the maturity you lack._

_Funny._

The wind came back and along with it came a dream. A humble apartment with a view of a towering city just outside the viewport. Sitting in the middle of the carpeted main room sat a boy, pen in hand, scribbling Aurebesh on parchment. Two men and a woman stood in the neighboring room speaking in hushed tones.

“Your years of expertise far exceed my own. My reach of influence only goes so far, I need you,” implored the woman to the man standing across from her.

He seemed unsure, looking to the other man sitting on the table with a cup of caf beginning to grow cold. “Listen, Luke, we’re out of our league here. Me more than anyone. If there is anything you can do to help settle him…”

Luke sighed, looking again to the woman, his sister, before leaning forward to peer at the boy through the crack of the door. The consideration showed on his countenance, uncertainty also expressing alongside. He was never trained so young. The Jedi of the old order had taken apprentices much younger and Luke wasn’t sure he wanted to take the boy from his parents at such a time.

“How about this,” Luke began to say, “I’ll take him on a quick trip with me. See how he feels about all of this. Make it an excuse for some uncle and nephew time. Maybe getting off-world will balance him out a bit.”

The two others nod in agreement, relief in their expressions. Though it might seem as if they tried to hide their relief. They were worried for their son, after all. Guilt burrowing in their chests for talking about him in private.

Further details were discussed before Luke left the room to sit beside the boy on the floor. For a moment, he admired the penmanship. _Ben Solo. Ben Solo. Ben Solo._ He was trying different curves to the letters, working to keep the integrity of the shapes while exercising creativity. Luke liked the way he drew the osks. There were even a few crude drawings of the Solo’s culinary droid BX-778. The kid might need to stick to calligraphy rather than drawing, but he wouldn’t dare comment and crush the poor kid’s dreams. Ben had only just aged his first decade.

“I had to get permission from your parents first before I thought to tell you. I was thinking of taking you on a little trip with me.”

“Where?” Ben asked. He didn’t even look up from his paper.

“The New Republic recently discovered a system with a moon that’s been untouched for centuries. They say it’s rich with kyber crystals.”

Ben picked his head up, dark curls falling into his face as he looked up at his uncle. Now he was intrigued. “Kyber? Like your Jedi saber?”

“Yes, the same crystals that power my lightsaber. It’s rumored that this moon was once a place the Jedi would go to harvest these crystals for their padawans and apprentices. I wanted to go and see if there was anything they left behind and thought… _maybe_ I could take my little Starfighter with me,” Luke nudges his shoulder against the boy’s. Ducking his head and lowering his voice, the boy’s uncle had a slight, cocky grin that plays on Ben’s further intrigue, “We don’t have to tell your father, but maybe if we find you a crystal, you could create your own lightsaber like the Jedi in the stories.”

With that, the boy on was entirely on board with the idea. In fact, he was _excited_ about it. There seemed to be little Ben found excitement in other than Luke’s fanatical stories and when his father relented to Ben’s insistence of learning to pilot. Making a part of it a secret only seemed to make the kid near giddy at the prospect. Though the pair wouldn’t leave for another two rotations, Ben’s parents were grateful for their son’s excitement. For once, the kid would have a chance to enjoy something.

A packed bag was slung across one of Ben’s shoulders, his mother smoothing out the front of his coat as she told him to behave and follow all of Luke’s directions. Stay safe. Listen to Luke. Pay attention to your instincts. Drink lots of water. Let the Force guide you. Don’t forget to pee. Among all this followed more of his mother fussing over his hair and making sure he packed everything he needed.

Ascending the ramp of the ship, his feet felt lighter in his mud-crusted boots. They were a new pair, freshly broken in the other day when he couldn’t simply _help_ himself the day it had rained. Ben turned around when he stood at the top of the ramp, looking back at his parents to wave his hand. The smile he gave them was one to cherish, a rare one… teeth and all. They waved back, saying something to one another that he couldn’t hear from the distance between and roar of the engines beginning to fire up.

_Do you really think he’ll be okay, Leia?_

_Sure he will. He’s with Luke._

_Yeah, but… and I don’t really know much about all this stuff… do you think it’s too much to let him somewhere where… I don’t know… the Force is too strong?_

_I think that’s just what he needs. Find his balance. Embrace part of it._

_I’m worried that he might embrace it too much. The reason we asked Luke was because of what he did to Enderson’s kid._

_Han…_

_I’m just saying. I’m worried._

_I know, me too, but he’s going to be fine._

The ramp closed with Ben still waving. The moment it shut, he heard the latch and seal. And something else…

Someone was crying. It was faint but gentle. The whining of what only could be described as a babe or youngling. Eyes remained fixated on the closed ramp in front of him, the lights of the ship suddenly seeming brighter than they were. He squinted, protecting his eyes and listening for where the sound might be coming from. _Was there a baby on Luke’s ship?_

His arm was pulled back, his name falling on somewhat deaf ears as he turned to see Luke pulling him further into the ship. He was saying something about how he needed to sit, he would have to strap down before entering hyperspace. The crying had stopped. Legs mindlessly carried him up towards the cockpit of the small shuttle and he sat to strap himself in. His head craned, looking around the workings of the ship, mentally identifying what he knew and storing reminders to ask about the others later.

“Is it just us on the ship, Uncle Luke?” the boy asks, still wondering where the strange crying had come from.

“No, it’s just us. Well, and Geegee my co-pilot here. Geegee this is Ben Solo.”

“Hi, Geegee.”

Geegee, Ben couldn’t remember what kind of droid he was, turned his head to look to Ben and inclined his head. “Hello, Master Solo.”

The boy giggled at Geegee before sinking entirely into the chair, he always found it amusing when droids called him _master_. If it was just them, then there was no baby.

The dots of stars turned into lines and again there was a transition back into that of falling.

Falling.

The same gentle sort of fall that doesn’t alarm.

It was dark again. Nothing to light but tiny dots of light. _More stars._

_I thought he didn’t even know you existed!_

Whispers. Whispers from a far corner of the galaxy.

_I don’t believe that’s how it works, Kira._

_Then how **does** it work? Because after all these years we’ve been damn well pretty good at hiding our trail. Suddenly everyone is able to find us? Did you leave something about us behind at the Republic medbay?_

_No, no! I swear, I didn’t. I used new names and everything—_

_Calder, it’s because of the girl. It has to be._

_No. It’s just a stroke of bad luck, is all._

A ship flew its way across the empty expanse of space, systems beeping and alerting of the danger that follows just behind it. Two ships. Larger in size, full of scars.

The cries returned, followed by a sudden hushing from the woman.

_It’s alright… it’s fine. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so upset Cal but—_

_I know you didn’t._

_I’m just… tired. Tired of all this running. And now this?_

_I know._

There was a sudden move. A jerk. The whispers silenced and the stars becoming clearer. This time it felt less like a dream. It isn’t like he sits up, but there’s a shift. Not a breath either. Something pushes back and forth between him, like the waves of an ocean. Like a Force.

The whispers return, more frantic this time.

_Kriff, one of them has locked onto us!_

_Do we have time to make a jump?_

_I think we just might…_

The cries of a child return.

_Then hurry!_

The jump shutters through him, his form. Rippling around him. Then there was silence. He tries to take a deep breath, but he doesn’t feel it, or hear it. There was no indication that he had done it other than knowing of the attempt. He manages to blink. The stars disappear only when his gaze closes then reappear when it opens. Looking down, he finds his hands. They were made of stars, outlines in a shade of blue and grey. His feet stood bare on a firm but transparent bridge, it was also made of stars. It is only now that he notices the pathways, stretching at great distances far below, above, beside and behind him.

Hands fall to his sides as his neck cranes to look around him.

_I know all about waiting._

A voice. Obvious. Distinct. It echoes behind him. Though it doesn’t repeat it was as if it still pulsed through him. _Called_ him. He turns, walking across the bridge in the direction by which it came.

_For my family. They’ll be back._

_Someday._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just as this fic is gaining its bearings, so is Ben

_These are your first steps._

Bare feet carry him across the bridge made of stars towards the still echoing voice. He hears more voices now, stemming from all other directions, but there was only one that truly called out to him. One that compelled him beyond all the others.

_Someday…_ she says. There’s a hope burning within those words. An ache accompanying it. Resonating just the same within his own form, or what was left of it, he followed the voice. Time was a fickle thing. Ages passed in the same span as minutes arriving at the end of a path to stand before something unfamiliar. It was a circle, the size of a proper corridor, with constellations of spinebarrel flowers made of starlight surrounding the perimeter as a label.

Below him the path continued to the right and to the left, but he felt no need to venture either direction. The door, or perhaps it was a gate, beckoned him in. There was no thought to it. Thoughts slipped between fingers like sand, he could only do and go. Drifting listlessly and yet still compelled by something else.

Ben steps through only to be consumed by the darkness of the gate.

. . .

The wind of the desert kicks up the dust of the sand. It does not sting the skin on his face, it passes through him. He walks amid a vast expanse, daylight devoid of the land before him. Cold sand catches between his bare toes but the grains do not stick, neither do his feet leave prints behind. There was no turning of the stars above him, no hope of morning, but the wind still howled.

It must have been hours until he stumbled upon something. A figure laying in the sand. Wide, large, and half buried. He stopped, standing still to examine the piece from afar. The wind, once blowing around him, now stopped too. It sounded more distant, fussing against metal barriers. He feels warm, the air becomes stuffy, and rather than standing outside Ben was now standing in the midst of something else. Though it may be dark, he could make out the piles of things strewn about the small space.

Turning around, he discovers that whatever it was… he has seen before. A distant memory. No, a distant dream. Inside the belly of a beast, the interior was wonky because it laid on its side. Within had been repurposed into a home. Tally marks stretching across most of the expanse of the largest wall. Clutter particularly organized in the corners of the main chamber, small piles of sand forming from the leakings of a desert.

Behind him there was a hammock. An occupied hammock. Someone laid curled into the makeshift bed, quiet and still. Stepping up to the side of it, he could see the steady breathing of a girl. She must be sleeping. Just below and beside it, near his left foot, sat a droid. A BB unit, white and orange in color, it quietly whirred to itself, soaking up a charge from a port just behind it.

It did not see him or notice him. Somehow, he already expected it to be the case. He was not truly there. This was a dream, wasn’t it?

Looking back to the sleeping girl, he tries to peer over her shoulder. Her back was towards him and he wanted to see… felt the impulse to _see_ her. In attempts to duck under the hammock, mid-way he realizes he was too tall to make it across. But he passes through her. If he wasn’t truly present, he could not be entrapped by meager obstacles. She shivers when he does so. Stirring lightly in her sleep and he realizes he was holding his breath in that moment. He knew her.

He _knew_ her.

_“Rey?”_ he whispers in question, to himself rather than to her. The soft brown of her brows furrow in disturbed rest, and he wonders if she heard him.

Looking down to the BB unit, he realizes that this was her home, the home on Jakku that he had seen in her mind. Bending to catch a closer view of her, Ben drinks in her weary form. Her old clothes were stained, pieces of hair loose from their ties, arms tense as if prepared to leave the rest of sleep for sudden defense.

His hand, made of stars, stretches to try and touch her. It does not settle on her form; he cannot set it atop her head or against her cheek. _“Rey,”_ he whispers again, looking down at his hands once again. They seem to have betrayed him in refusing to find purchase. But his attempts were not in vain. Rey stirs in her sleep. Her head shifting to find further comfort, pressing an old homemade doll against her cheek. She takes a deep breath and releases it just before settling back into her comfortability.

It would have been so easy to miss if he had not been watching. Again, her chest rises before lips part as a word, one single word, near soundlessly emits: _Ben._

. . .

The light is blinding. A stark contrast to the cold, silent and dark, now he was in hot, yellow light surrounded by a couple dozen noises and voices. It takes him a moment to gather his surroundings. Standing in the middle of a rustic outpost, there are handfuls of beings speaking in languages known and unknown around him.

He stands near the center of the outpost, under a large tent that spreads out a good few meters. There are voices behind him, _One hundred portions._ Rey was standing at the counter of a stingy Crolute with the BB droid whining at her feet. There was a line of other scavengers standing behind her waiting patiently, looking on with intrigue.

“Your audacity always has exceeded your size, Rey…” the Crolute goes on to say. They have a brief exchange, half of which he doesn’t hear because he turns about to look as to where he was. Jakku, this was still Jakku. Niima Outpost. Stepping backwards, he’s practically breathing over her shoulder to watch the exchange.

“Certain parties have been asking around about a droid like that. None of my business…”

She was going to sell the droid.

The BB unit looked depleted, defeated even. Its head tilting downward rather than its natural dorsal position at the top of its round body.

_Rey…._

“Actually—the droid’s not for sale. I made a mistake.”

The Crolute raged at her. Clearly upset by the change of terms. Rey seemed almost gleeful of it. Gleeful of making the Crolute angry. He yelled to her, “You have nothing. You _are_ nothing!”

She flaunted her freedom in pride in reply to his flustered accusations. The members at the worktables behind them lending their ear. Ben licked his lips, taking in the view as she repeated her _lack_ of offer and turns around to leave the tent behind. What else was there for him to do but follow her?

The girl that strode across the sand, excited BB unit in tow, was anything but nothing. Even if it were anything relatively close to her destiny, he doubted those words. _He always has._

As she walked away, he heard crying again. Not the same cry as before, but of a young child. _No!_ She was crying, _screaming_ the word from behind him. Ben turns, he sees a small girl… a small Rey being held by the arm of the same Crolute that she had nearly sold the droid to.

Quickly, he looks around and the place he stands in the desert is different from where he had stood a moment ago.

“Quiet, girl,” says the slavemaster, pulling little Rey as tears streamed down her grief-stricken face.

Ben follows her gaze towards the sky, a ship flying out into orbit and beyond. _Oh,_ so that was what this was now. He has also seen this before.

But why was the Force showing all this to him again? Why had it brought him back to Jakku? For a moment he closes his eyes, pulling in a long breath. _Show me,_ he beckons. _Show me._

Opening his eyes, he turns back around to face the girl. She had been dragged back a couple of meters towards one a tattered tent. The Crolute told her to sit on the grimy floor while he began preparations, she obeyed in a fit of tears and sobs. Ben knelt just beside her, hand reaching to try and lightly drag his knuckles against her arm. It was awkward, as his hand would pass through if he did not try to carefully prevent it.

_Hey…_ he says in a low whisper, summoning whatever comforting tone might benefit a child. He was never very good with children and younglings.

_They’re never going to come back for you._ No, that’s not right. That wasn’t comforting to a small girl. Well, he _was_ right, but it just wasn’t the right thing to say.

His hand falls and he sighs, _What I mean to say is that they can’t come back for you. But I will. I’ll find a way._

That doesn’t mean he has any idea. Any _morsel_ of an idea. She seems to stop weeping now, sniffing and wiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. Tears still adamant on their consistency.

_I’ll come back, sweetheart. I promise._

Whatever it takes.

Whatever it takes.

The little girl’s eyes squeeze tight, lips press together as she swallows hard. Rey nods. He finds it odd but… _she nods._ One last tear fell, and she sniffs once more. Taking a deep breath, something seems to come over her. Perhaps it was determination. Again, Ben reaches to try and stroke her arm in a hopeless attempt to soothe.

“They’ll come back,” she says in a weary voice, shaking with emotion. _“They’ll come back.”_

His hand falls away, he blinks.

No, wait.

That wasn’t what he had meant. Can she hear him?

. . .

He blinks and the desert world vanished away. No longer was he bending in the sand, but he was standing at the gate with the spinebarrel flowers. Jakku. This gate had led him to Jakku.

There’s another voice behind him now.

_Be with me._

It was the same voice, he realizes.

_Be with me._

Rey’s voice.

He turns to the right, and follows after it.


	3. Chapter 3

Though he did not have the luxury to take this one grip at a time, he went with it for fear of losing hold or slipping. Ben did not want to fall back down this dreadful pit. It wasn’t a clean fall. Snoke had taught him how to use the Force to effectively catch himself. Preventing hard falls was one of the methods of training he learned years ago. Unfortunately, it was not something that entirely accounted for sharp edges jutting out that he may or may not run into during a descent.

Reaching to find purchase with his left hand, a lingering ache under his ribs blooms hot with fresh pain. He was bleeding through the shirt, he had to be. The static wind blew through the threads and though his flesh was hot the skin was cold from something wet. The shirt stuck to it and Ben didn’t have the time to check. It wasn’t like some blood or shattered ribs were going to stop him anyways.

It was the remaining flickering of Rey’s lifeforce that kept him going. Hands feeling in the dark for another ledge, another crevice, to grasp and pull himself upwards. There wasn’t much strength left in him, and this was taking all of it. Adrenaline filled and desperation riddled sort of strength was merely a force of actual will than just the Force itself. The Force’s fortitude within him had been greatly depleted, but it was still there. A small flame burrowed in his gut and it was accompanied by the strings wrapped around his heart the led to the girl who was facing the greater evil alone. She shouldn’t be alone up there…

Lightening was the only light that helped to illuminate his path. It was not reliable, not consistent, but enough to help him see when he needed it most, striking from above or somewhere below. He has lost his footing twice, thankfully catching himself both times. His right foot settled across a ledge, just the inner part of it. He tests it before confidently pushing himself up, and he reached again… hand searching for something else to grasp.

Suddenly, everything began to shake. The stone under his hands rumble, his hand returns to grasp what he had before to keep his balance, to keep his place. Something was happening. A force of wind brought dust upon him. Squinting his eyes, he tries to see if he can manage to catch sight of the opening. There was nothing but a cloud of mist and dust. He could not see the top.

Some of the vibrations seemed to stop, or in the least slow, and Ben was able to ascend another meter or so before it all began again. Something rippled through him, pulled at him from deep within. It was Rey. She was facing that beast alone. _No._ He tried to speed up the process, take a few hurried steps. His hand slipped, the pads of his fingers growing numb with the rough textures of the rock. Ben caught himself, but only just in time for the shaking to increase. There was an earthquake.

Pressing his form as close as he could against the wall of the ledge, he came to realize the earthquake might not stop quite yet. Rocks, pieces of debris were falling on top of him, and he needed to get out of the way in fear of being crushed or falling back down the hole. There was nowhere to go but up or down. He was trapped. Closing his eyes, he reached to find another hold, bracing himself for any impact. The Force would show him, wouldn’t it? Some of its strength was still with him, wasn’t it?

He heard the crash before he saw it, a large piece of broken stone rammed against the rim of the hole’s crevice and cascaded down. Ben pressed against the wall, left leg reaching out to balance and brace himself only then did he realize his mistake. The stone collided against his leg, crushing his knee against the rocky wall and further bruising his side as he cried out. Debris followed the large rock as it continued its descent, no apology for the injury it caused him.

Ben takes a moment to catch his breath, his left leg of no use to pull himself up any longer. A panic had risen in him, it numbed the searing pain of crushed bone and cartilage and quickened his blood. His grip was shaky at best, the rumblings still resonating through the entire structure. In a moment of pause, he looked up to finally catch sight of the opening a couple meters above him. _Almost there._

But then he felt it.

It was worse than what he could have imagined it to be. Worse than the feelings of the _others_ life vanishing. He can’t breathe. The wind had been knocked out of him; hot blood oozed inside of his chest as a wound had been opened. His forehead pressed against the cool stone, unable to quite process the reality of the cold removal of the bond. It was severed from him. Violently torn out of him. _No._

_No—_

Something in him takes over, and in truth he doesn’t know _how_ he managed to continue, but he did. His hand finally reached across to touch the remnants of the throne floor. Pulling himself up, he even managed to stand. There she was, only a handful of meters and laying in the midst of rubble. Damn his knee, damn his ribs, he would go to her if it killed him.

He stumbles, awkwardly colliding with the ground for his lack of balance and use of limbs. It takes him a moment to gain his bearings, working through every ounce of pain that told him to stop, told him to lay down and rest. _He would go to her if it killed him._

It was wrong to doubt the Force, he knew this. He had always known it. He _still_ knows it now. The pain was true, throbbing in and through him as if there was nothing else he could ever be _so sure_ about. Again, he falls, crawling the rest of the way towards her. Proximity had him shaking now, the familiarity… the _drawing in_ he was use to now gone. There was nothing but _cold_ here. He grasps her arm, the skin still warm to touch and he shift to find whatever means he could to pull her into his arms.

Her eyes had been left open; the breath gone out of her. It hurts all the more now. He doesn’t have words. Not for deaf ears. Not for ears that can’t hear his apology… the agony churning inside of something broken. _Beyond broken and irreparable._ She was gone.

Ben holds her close to him, asking himself when in all the hells he would do. What would he do without her? Could he live without her?

After what she had done for him…

Kylo Ren was dead, but she had brought _Ben Solo_ back. He was alive, wasn’t he? But she wasn’t.

_How did she do it?_

_Heal him?_

He pulls away enough to look across her form. Whatever she had done, however she stopped the Emperor, she was entirely devoid of life. He remembered how she healed him, a transferring of life from one into the other. _Life heals._

Resting his hand against her side, he closes his eyes to concentrate, to recall the memory and how it felt. A transferring of life from one into the other.

Ben focuses his breathing, as if trying to place the breath of life within her. He did not know where it had all come from, but he manages to feel it pouring out of him. _There was more of it than he expected._ The more strength that left him, the wearier his own form began to feel. He wondered if it would work at all—if he was giving his life for nothing. Maybe death was better in the end.

Nearly in a trance, he almost missed something touching his hand. His eyes opened. Rey was sitting up, staring at him.

Was it true? Had he given his lifeforce to her?

“Ben.”

The smile she gives him awakens the last morsel of strength left in him. There was no regret in it. To see her there, _alive and well,_ it was everything to him. Everything.

Rey grabs hold of his face, in all gentility, and her lips meet with his. Surprised, he breathes in the moment, arms wrapping around her to ground himself in it. _If it was the last thing he would do—_

To know that he was loved in return.

To feel her touch and affection for the first… the only time.

He was smiling when their kiss parted, brow resting against hers. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to tell her—

Something within him was restored. Something within him had also been healed. _The bond._

But again, he fell, that same something ripping into two once again.

And he never quite stopped falling.

. . .

Ben stands before another gate, Sith runes surrounding it. He could read this one. Exegol. Why had he come back to Exegol?

_Be with me._

The voice again, the same voice he was following. _Her voice._

_Be with me._

She was crying. A broken sound, a sob following after the plea. Ben looked down at his hands, the Force had brought him here. Was he gone? No—he couldn’t be gone, wouldn’t things have been different if it were true?

But he had died on Exegol, he felt it. Where he was now, he did not know. But he could still hear her, he could still hear Rey.

_Come_ back _to me you bloody idiot. You said I wasn’t alone and now—_

And now?

“Rey?” he tries his voice, and it echoes across the expanse. Turning his back away from the gate, he looks across and beyond the expanse of space around him.

“Rey?” Ben calls her name again, “Can you hear me? Where are you?”

_Where am I?_ he wonders.

Would their dyad remain in place even in death?


	4. Chapter 4

**_Life_. **

A seemingly precious molecule of being encompassed in finite layers of energy.

It was a fickle thing, easily swayed by the influence of other forms of life and the ravages of time. 

Rey thought she had come to truly understand the beauty of the balancing act played between life and death. 

Whether it be a delicate flower emerging from the smoldering sands of Jakku or the roaring, crashing devastation of a solar flare ripping apart an entire system – life was both _beautiful_ and **petrifying**. 

Rey learned rather quickly… _Tatooine was not a place of abundant life._

Time forgot Tatooine. The galaxy as a whole had allowed its peace for too long. This served Rey rather well in her time of healing. 

As she moves to drag the last of her bounty in for the night, the familiar chirping of BB-8 can be heard struggling to ascend the dunes outside the housing unit. 

“Beebee-Ate…” Rey calls, abandoning her netting on the dusty flooring before peeking out to check on him. “I told you to stay on the ship.” 

He had only been granted permission to assist herself and Chewie on this trip after her personal request. Now he was likely to get his servos clogged if he kept trying to follow after her. 

Once she all but totes him into the lower building, Rey sets out to establish some sort of livable area. 

….

_“Here I thought Luke said he didn’t want you to exile yourself.”_

_“Going to Tatooine isn’t exile Finn, it’s about returning to a good place. Finding myself again after all of this–”_

_“You can’t do that here? **With us?** ” _

_“You wouldn’t understand–”_

_“Then help me to, Rey…”_

_…._

Her cheek presses into her arm as she’s sprawled out across her makeshift mat on the cold floor. 

Ever accustomed to the drastic’s of a desert climate, the comforts of a crackling fire are felt not far away. 

In the haze of flame, smoke, and exhaustion, these morsels of life seemed to dance in harmony with the purring shift of sand just outside. 

As sleep beckons her closer to the edge of consciousness, the song that emerges is sweet– almost soothing. 

It conjures a familiarity that had long left her bones. 

How long had it truly been since her entire world resided within the walls of one AT-AT? How many days had passed since she last engraved a mark into her walls? 

It seemed a lifetime ago, even if only seemed to be less than two galactic cycles. 

Who was she now that the galaxy no longer needed her? 

Who was she now that she… was alone? 

_Rey?_

_…._

The Force was a silent guide. Luring him, singing to him and guiding his steps across a galaxy. There were gateways everywhere, and yet at great distances and expanses at the same time. To move from one bridge to another required only a thought, a passing internal remark and he was walking atop it in parallel to the other.

Ben did not understand. He did not have to.

Rare were the voices, trailing out from beyond a gate, all of which were familiar words of the life before. Some gates were silent, holding nothing of memorial worth. There were whispers that did not beckon from the gateways. Voices belonging to others that were not to be recognized. *With you--- with you--- with you---*

Ben never realized ghosts could be so reassuring. Yet again, _how_ reassuring was a consideration like that suppose to be?

He frowns. Wait, does he still have his face? Ben stops, lifting his hands to wave them in front of him. He brings them up to his face to press against the sides of his cheeks. In the least, he could _feel_ that he was there, but the way his skin looks… his clothes… he was _with_ the Force. This was not how he imagined being _one_ with the Force would be. Had something gone wrong? _Could he not be forgiven of all he’s done?_

Despite it, he would still trust the Force. If this was what he deserved, an in between of life and eternal without the damnation, he would bear it. There was no choice.

Finally, he stands at the threshold of another gateway. The blackness pouring into him as it called for him to step within. The designs of each gate, he had noticed, were different. Representing something of what resided inside. This one, like the gate where he found a young Rey, had a floral design similar to it, yet different in its expressions.

There even seemed to be _music_ cascading from it.

He was not pushed, nor did he walk inside of it. Rather… the gateway enveloped him entirely and he found himself in a dark, damp room. There was a slight scent of mildew and voices traveling down from the hall.

….

The inevitable roar of a Wookie rouses her the following morning. 

Having brought in the last of the supplies needed for her three months of retreat, both are forced to give a quiet but poignant goodbye. 

“Just for now”, Rey reminds him. “We’ll see each other soon enough.” 

They embrace, awkwardly despite all their endeavors, but when she looks up to Chewie– there again was the restrained emotion she had felt yet not shared for her beloved General. 

Her brow furrows, dampening her lips as she makes an effort to find the words. 

“Thank you, my friend– where would I be without you?” 

Causal embrace shifts into something more personal. A furry embrace as a tender grumbling reminds her that she wouldn’t ever have to find out. 

….

“You need to take this,” came an eerily familiar voice.

“And _you_ need to _go home_.”

“I can’t. You don’t understand. Aunt Maz, _please—_ this needs to stay in hands I can trust.” Hands that only _part_ of him trusted.

“You’re foolish if you think you trust me not to call your parents!” Maz Kanata threatens.

He was well beyond the age of adolescence. Twenty-three. Still cloaked in a mildly tattered Jedi robe, hood pulled up to hide his features. The younger Ben held a curio box, urging the shorter woman to take it. Mildly exasperated by her threat, Ben tries not to roll his eyes, it would not do well to combat his anxiety. He should not stay here long.

“You can’t tell them I came here. You can’t tell them I gave any of this to you,” Ben implores, pining for Maz to see reason.

Her small eyes seem to scrutinize him. _Read him like a book._ Ben hates that feeling. The crawling feeling of when someone judges his character, examines his appearance and countenance to come to their own personal conclusions. Maz, however, was different in some regard. She had the Force, she _should_ be able to sense his urgency. The underlining necessity of it all.

Arms unfold from her chest as one hand motions for him to bring the box closer, “Let me see what’s inside.” After all, she did not want junk collecting dust amongst her many treasures.

Ben lowers himself so that she could see and Maz carefully opens the box to find a small array of items. Some were more personal than others. However, the personal items were nothing to be considered amongst the others. A hyperspace sextant, an ancient one, perhaps nearly of four-thousand-years of age. A diatium power cell, a device used in the Jedi lightsabers. Speaking of lightsabers, it was what caught her attention most of all. She picked it up.

“And where in the galaxy have you found this?” Maz asks him, admiring the craft with awe and unease. The way she looks at him, if she had a eyebrow she was most definitely would be raising it at him.

“It was my grandfather’s,” he explains, “I need to keep it safe, here. With you.” Away from the trouble he’s likely gotten himself into. Where he has been. Where he was going.

“Away from those cultist acolytes?”

Dammit, why did she always know everything? He pressed his lips together and nodded, knowing he couldn’t hide much from her.

“Fine,” she says rather pointedly, she sounds somewhat aggravated.

Closing the box, Maz motions for him to hand it to her and he follows through, placing the wooden curio box into her positioned arms.

“But you have to promise me _one thing,_ Solo.”

Ben hates how he remembers his father telling him stories of Maz. The deals he had to make, the deals she had made with others. He doesn’t like the sound of this.

Maz continues after his moment of paused silence, “Don’t let it collect dust here for long. I’m not some _aunt_ where you can come and dump all your shab for me to hold forever. Otherwise I’m going to _sell_ it.” She wouldn’t _actually_ sell it, both of them knew that. Though Ben couldn’t be sure _what_ exactly she might do.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers with a nod of his head, but Maz quickly interrupts him---

 _“And--!_ Wherever you’re going…” her voice lowered, falling into a lull that seemed to reverberate with the conscience within. She was good at that. It was his own fault for coming to her, he knew the dangers. “Promise that you’ll come back to _us.”_

There it was. His gaze breaks off from hers. Shifting away and taking half a step back from her. He was giving her readings away, wasn’t he? Ben won’t make the promise, even if everything within him tells him to. _And others tell him not._

“My dear, this is _not_ the way… I will hold your things until you find a way to come back home. But you _still_ must come home.”

It was as if there was no arguing her adamancy. Ben no longer makes eye contact, taking another step back.

“Thank you, Aunt Maz,” is all he says in turn, inclining his head to express his gratitude and express his leave.

She says more. Trying to speak something into him that he was not ready to hear. That he did not _want_ to hear. The young man turns, quickly slipping up and out of the basement of Maz’s castle. She was left standing in the center of the hall, clutching the curio box to her chest and staring towards the way Ben had left.

 _“You will be back,_ boy. Even if you don’t believe it.” She turns her head now, almost looking around the damp hall in search for something, humming almost to herself.

“In more ways than just one.”

….

“I told you BeeBee-Ate! The tradesmen would want to see my finds!” Rey sports rather triumphantly as she unloads her speeder. Releasing the netting at the side, there’s a faint thud as BB-8 hits the ground. 

BB-8′s skepticism now overturned, he’s pleased to see his mistress with her bounty of… well– whatever sort of protein they’d given her. 

Determined from the get-go, Rey had little desire to return to the negative side of scavenging. _There would be no starvation_ , that had been one of Finn’s stipulations of letting her go off onto her own again. 

Carving the fat from the bone, she allows it to drip into the crackling flame before indignantly tearing into the meat. It dibbles onto her chin, to which BB-8 comment is received with a roll of her eyes. 

Without the small mercy of a working sonic – it would take her a week or so to finally fix the one on the other side of the meager estate – Rey suffices to wipe away her days work with a dampened cloth before settling down to read for the evening. 

The remaining texts she had yet to decipher would still require much meditation. Hoping that her extended time on Tatooine would help Rey reconnect with the spirits of her masters or forebearers, it was unfortunate she had yet to make much progress. 

There’s a muffled medley signaled from across the room as BB-8 sits at the opened doorway. The clear setting of the suns enough for him to beckon her to rest. 

“Alright, alright– if only to appease you, _Master_.” Her lips curling as she sets to extinguish her reading candle and put dampeners on her evening fire. 

Embracing the shadow, Rey turns to her back as she endeavors to repeat her nightly custom. 

As the sands shift just outside, her breathing rises and falls in perfect rhythm. 

Ebb and Flow. 

Give and Take. 

Light and Dark.

Life… and Death. 

The crevices of the ceiling seemed to blur together, the gentle falling of dust that seemed to rain alongside her. 

“Be with me…” She breathes, “Be with me…” 

She waits, her heart’s beat only falling off-rhythm when her impatience thwarts her ultimate desire to hear and be heard. 

It had been three months since she had heard their voices. 

Three months since she had seen his face. 

All this time, listless and unsure, waiting for a sign – hoping for a message that might give her the next steps to take. 

Yet as it had been for so long now, there was no answer. 

Just the seeping cold of the desert night. 

The familiar loneliness that had come to fill the wound slowly festering within her. 

Turning onto her side, Rey compels the door, quivering in the wind, closed. As the last morsel of moonlight slips away, the reality of her self-imposed tomb came to fruition. 

A tear slips down her dirt-stained cheek, staring endlessly into the shadow, Rey hears the only whispers left to her in the universe. 

_You are alone, granddaughter._

_Broken, worthless, and all alone._

“Ben –” Rey whispers, stifling through her tears. “Where are you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to Ash who is the Rey to my Ben <3 she wrote Rey's parts way in advance and yet it took me far too long to get this posted.


End file.
